Designs That Shouldn’t Have

Design is inherently about solving problems. It’s highly functional, aesthetically pleasing, and ideally evokes the “how did we ever live without ________?” sentiment. When design doesn’t accomplish that task, and particularly when it creates new ones, outrage ensues. So today’s post is dedicated to those designs that each of us here at BUILD considers to be ones that should never–ever–have seen the light of day.

DuffClamshell Packagingdesigner unknownJust about anything from Costco is packaged with this amazing
and unfortunate invention.

My list of “Designs That Shouldn’t Have Been” is long. But, I’m forgiving. As a matter of fact, I’m sort of glad these design failures are out there—we learn from our mistakes. It’s all part of the exploration and evolution of a design, and in many cases, we realize quickly whether its further development is worth pursuing. However, there is one design that stubbornly sits at the top my list: clamshell packaging. I don’t think I have to go into much more detail. Just about anything from Costco is packaged with this amazing and unfortunate invention that makes it nearly impossible to extract the item from its molded transparent shell. But thankfully there is a solution: The Package Shark Pro! The only problem is that it’s encased in the very clamshell packaging it’s meant to open.

Don’t get me wrong, I like plurality in the world. I like a spectrum of designs from the various time periods designed with diverse philosophies by different authors. But the P.T. Cruiser should never have made it past that phase where a concept car is artistically rendered with zippy felt pens and reflections of a setting sun. How on earth did a room full of car designers and decision makers look at a clay model of the P.T. Cruiser and say “yup,that’s the one. Send it to the production line!” I cringe when stopped in traffic near a P.T. cruiser; its chrome-y retro curves clogging up my peripheral vision. I once had a nightmare that I was in hell and all of the taxis were yellow P.T. Cruisers (oh wait, that was my last trip to Phoenix). Adding insult to injury, Chrysler has released the wood paneled “Woodie Package,” a 2-door sporty convertible model and the “Dream Cruiser 5 Series” which boasts a spoiler. Want options? How about the “Factory Flame Package,” which includes flame decals extending from the front fenders? Rrrrowwww! Barf.

This may be one of the most universally scorned fonts in the history of type. Since its introduction eighteen years ago, Comic Sans has undergone more than its fair share of overuse, inappropriate use—some might say use at all—and inevitable backlash. I can understand why it was initially embraced by the masses: the allure of being able to choose a font coupled with the availability of a “fun” and “friendly” one that doesn’t look like all the others was an irresistible combination. But that was another era. What’s perplexing is why it’s still being used today, outside the occasional ironic rant. And by physicists no less. Clearly, a world without Comic Sans is not in the cards. But if it were to miraculously be banished for good, its scarcity and forbidden nature would cause it to become the most treasured of fonts. And nobody wants that.

CharlesSteinberger L-Series Electric Guitar designed by Ned Steinberger 1979The L-Series fits the bill with its minimalist body and non-existent headstock.
The problem is Steinberger seems to have taken things too far.

I’ll admit, I really struggled with this one. My gut instinct was to stick to a theme and go with something from OMA. But let’s face it, they rock too hard. (Okay, maybe I could have made a case for the Guggenheim Hermitage Museum, what with its economic shortcomings and all.) In a lot of ways, choosing the L-Series probably goes against my modernist training. One of our favorite phrases around the office is “everything it needs to be and nothing more.” In that case, the L-Series fits the bill with its minimalist body and non-existent headstock. The problem is Steinberger seems to have taken things too far. Meanwhile, does my love of Fender Stratocasters and Harmony H-78s belie my architectural aspirations? Would I be more at home designing Art Deco villas and using French curves at the drop of a hat?

This was a tough one. The FA Blog has a fine selection to choose from. But in the end, the winner was clear: The Basket Building. Here’s a direct quote from Longaberger’s website describing one of the building’s special features: “The handles are heated to prevent ice from forming.” Nothing says you shouldn’t have quite like two non-functioning gigantic handles that need to be specially heated.

Totally agree abou the PT Cruiser, but haven’t been able to articulate exactly WHY I hate it so much. Generally I dislike all the throw-back retro design cards (Camero, Mustangs, etc), but this one takes the cake. Probably because there is no reason for it to look like that today, it’s pure fluff and very little function. 1950’s and 1950’s-Modern are two different things; while I love MCM, The Fonz bebop makes me ill.

I just personally don’t like the building and I don’t think what’s inside is enhanced by the architecture. To me both have an important role which is serving as a place where people come to celebrate music and science fiction, with the library, to read books, research, etc. I think the connection with the library and the architecture and the function are much tighter. I think the EMP is an example of architecture that is not respectful to place, setting, etc. while the library, although futuristic and space ship-esque feels like it actually fits in its surroundings.

This coming from a reformed, semi-functional design snob who’s driven by the Longaberger building a few times. The photos really don’t do it justice. Sure, it’s a one-off. But it’s actually done well, and there’s something surreal about driving through the flat Ohio countryside and all of a sudden (boom) there’s a giant basket. Sometimes life’s favorite moments don’t belong in a Rizzoli monograph.

As far as the PT Cruiser goes, i have no problem with the design, but i’m certainly sick of seeing them. They’re relatively cheap, use a Neon chassis, and were meant as a novelty. It’s raison d’etre was to get (older) people into showrooms so salespeople could convince buyers to get the more expensive models. The customers liked it so much they soon sold out. One example of a great product misread.

Per Comic Sans- I’m disappointing to see this here. It so easy and fashionable to hate on Comic Sans- it is like the basic ungrad critique of type.

I am a UI developer for early education online testing, and Comic Sans, and a few other handwritten fonts like it, is the easiest to read for children. My point is that it does in fat have some specialized uses.

I love you guys for your normal take that design shouldn’t be highly stylized, but this is a case where in fact it does have a function.

The Longaberger Home Office is art, and it happens to be a building too. It functions to make people smile or think differently, and it also functions as a building. However, *good* architectural design should be artful coincidently and only because it was highly functional and well thought out as a building FIRST and foremost. There should be no tradeoff for art instead of function, and for this reason the office building doesn’t deserve much credit for good design, but it may deserve kudos for being good art, but that’s a different category of evaluation entirely.

The same goes with Comic Sans. If Comic Sans was designed to be highly readable by children, or is found to be the most optimum typeface for that purpose, then by all means I would think it deserves more credit. However, if this effect was coincidental and there are other better typeface found for children to use (which I would guess is the case? I don’t know) then I see no reason why we should settle for letting it be considered good design.

Just because something has *some* useful purpose, by chance or by compromise doesn’t give it free pass to evade scrutiny and ridicule.